Halt and Catch *fire emoji*

Yesss edgy hacker chic!

When I started watching Halt and Catch Fire a few weeks ago, I was skeptical. The concept had me hesitating, how could any computer hacker drama live up to the consistently groundbreaking and engaging precedent set by Mr. Robot?  But after all the acclaim thrown at the show during season 2, I felt the need to catch up on it before this week’s season 3 premiere. I have a weird compulsion to at least try to be caught up on every noteworthy TV show out there. It’s something that I should probably work on, before I force myself to watch a 7th season of The Walking Dead.

My fears were validated throughout watching most of season one. Halt was trying too hard, and it was a pastiche of other, better shows. Think Mad Men with Breaking Bad’s color palate but set during the 80s tech boom instead of advertising in the 60s. I complained about its lame shock tactics and the fact that characters would seemingly be in and out of relationships at random. The focus on early computer technology felt like a too clever wink at modern times. “Their computer needs to have a personality, look at these visionaries!” The plot sharpened into focus near the season’s end, leading to an amusing reveal where the characters realized they were not quite the innovative pioneers they thought. It works better in retrospect, but it’s a messy season of television and tough to push through at times. The best thing I could really say about it in those early episodes was “This show has a dope title sequence.”

I knew season 2 would be better, critical consensus had told me so, but what struck me was how elegant the shift was. A simple change of protagonists, from the Don Draper wannabe Joe MacMillan (Lee Pace) to ambitious hacker protégé and ex-lover Cameron Howe (Mackenzie Davis), is the only fundamental difference between seasons 1 and 2. All other elements remained intact, and yet the show immediately felt better and more natural. Compare the pilot and the season 2 premiere, and the differences are subtle. Season 2 may be quieter and more driven by its (excellent) ensemble cast, but the plot is almost identical: a pair of unlikely friends have an interesting idea and try to grow a business around it. It’s something I’ve never quite witnessed in television, a retooling but not a reboot, and with the exact same writing team and creative talent behind it.

If the writers can take credit for any of season 2’s recovery, it’s realizing what a great cast they had in season 1 and running with it. By focusing so much of that season on Joe and his ambitious but flawed business schemes, it left the show’s best supporting players Gordon Clark (Scoot McNairy) and his wife Donna (Kerry Bishé) feeling awkward and out of place. The two were in a troubled marriage, but the details of that relationship felt arbitrary and underdeveloped. Season 2, refreshingly, puts Donna front and center by partnering with Cameron, while Gordon’s lack of motivation and ideas becomes one of the most compelling aspects of the show. The rest of the employees at Cameron’s new gaming startup, Mutiny, fill out the cast with a great sense of humor and fun names like Yo-Yo and Wonderboy. Even Joe, while still being the weak point of the show, slipped into a more interesting antagonist role. Halt and Catch Fire had somehow, seemingly effortlessly, become a perfect character drama.

And so the show moves into season 3, which began on Tuesday night with all its characters moving to California hoping to find success and fulfillment (I could honestly write another piece just comparing this show to Mad Men). The premiere episodes suggest a show with newfound confidence, which is deserved. Rather than feeling like a hackneyed glimpse of the future as it once did, the technology driving the show’s plot now feels like an earned metaphor for the connection that its characters desperately seek. Halt doesn’t have to impress anyone anymore, and it doesn’t seem like it wants to. I was partially right in my initial judgment, it’s definitely not Mr. Robot. It’s content as a quiet character drama, and that’s a beautiful thing. It’s a good reminder that a show can always change for the better, and I’m glad it was allowed to exist long enough to get to this point.